which time she had been through a world war and had four other children. My father was 40 and had been in the army for 20 years. Both were firmly middle aged. The way they lived their lives fitted into a recognisable paradigm of middle-agedness. My father would mow the lawn on a Saturday, pipe clamped in his mouth, wearing a tie (although with a checked rather than weekday white shirt) and polished shoes – a
